Chapter 14
“Bobby’s asking to meet,” Allena said, sighing and keeping her voice low so that Cassie wouldn’t pick up on the strain in her tone.
“Are you having second thoughts?”
She shrugged. “Second and third, and fourth,” she admitted. “I just want to be sure I’m doing the right thing. I mean, you know what I mean—”
“I know, and I guess there are no guarantees in any relationship,” Tess added. “But you’ll never know unless you take the chance.”
“So,” she queried, her voice quiet. “You think I should do it?”
“You know what I think,” Tess replied gently.
Tell Justin how she felt. Oh God, I can't.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
Tess got to her feet. “I’m here for you, whatever you decide. And now I think I’ll go and make coffee for you and tea for me,” her sister said, and then called Cassie’s name, asking her if she wanted milk and cookies.
Cassie was on her feet in a microsecond, and Allena continued to cradle Charlie after they left the room. Alone, with her thoughts and the sleepy baby in her arms, Allena’s sense of longing became acute.
Particularly when Justin came into the room a few minutes later. Of course, he’d seen her hold a baby before. Cassie had been a little over six months old when she’d arrived at the ranch. But something had changed between them in the last twenty-four hours; their regard for one another, their entire relationship, had undergone some sort of dramatic shift. Her announcement that she was quitting had clearly made things difficult and tense between them.
“I remember when Jayden was born,” he said, coming farther into the room, standing behind the sofa. “I spent the first few months terrified I was going to drop him or forget to feed him.” He smiled a little and looked at the baby, then returned his gaze to hers. “I’d relaxed a bit by the time Cassie came along. Jayne was way more relaxed about the whole thing. Mothering instinct, maybe,” he said and then chuckled. “Or does that make me sound like a sexist jerk?”
Allena couldn’t help herself and smiled in return. He had a sexy laugh, and she had never been immune. “Not really. I understand what you mean.”
“She was a good mom,” he said softly. “You will be, too,” he added. “I mean, when you…”
“When I finally get to have a child of my own?”
He immediately looked uncomfortable. “I didn’t mean it like that. I only meant—”
“It’s okay,” she said and sighed. “I’m being overly sensitive. Forget about it.”
“He’s a cute kid,” he said, sitting down on the sofa opposite.
“All babies are cute.”
He didn’t disagree. Instead, he sat back in the chair, watching her. “So, this fireman,” he said suddenly and unexpectedly. “Does he want kids?”
Allena met his gaze. “Yes,” she replied, and she glanced briefly toward the door. “Is Jayden with Michael?”
He nodded. “Michael is showing him the new foal that was born last night.” He tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair. "So, yeah, about this fireman, has he asked you to marry him?”
Allena gaped at him. “Ah…no. We’ve never met, remember.”
“But you’ve talked about marriage?”
She was surprised by his questions and didn’t bother to hide the fact. “In a vague kind of way,” she replied, her cheeks burning beneath his glittering gaze. “You know, the way people generally talk about marriage and relationships.”
“We’ve lived together for four years, and the subject of marriage has never come up.” Allena bit back the startled gasp that rose in her throat. “I don’t know what –”
“You’ve never said you wanted to get married,” he remarked, still tapping his fingers.
“Wanting marriage and babies isn’t exactly the kind of conversation someone has with their employer.”
He stopped tapping, looking serious through his glasses. “I’ve always thought we were friends.”
Allena almost laughed out loud. If she told him how much she wanted him out of the employer zone and into the lover zone, he’d run a mile.
“We are, Justin,” she said quietly and firmly. “So, please, be my friend. Just support my decision.”
As painful as it was, Allena knew leaving was the right thing to do.
For all their sakes. And for her heart’s sake.
Sunday night was game night. Justin’s sister usually dropped by, bringing his stepfather, her face-painting gear, and treats for the kids. Justin always enjoyed the family get-togethers, particularly when Mittie was home. He and Igor would watch sports on the big TV in the rumpus room while their grandmother made snacks and his sister painted the kids' faces. And then they would all sit around the table in the kitchen, eat copious amounts of popcorn, and play cards or Scrabble. It was a tradition. Most times, Allena would join in, unless she was visiting Tess. But she was painfully absent that evening.
And neither Jayden nor Cassie were in their usual playful mood.
“What’s with the gloomy faces?” Igor asked both kids as he peered over his cards.
Jayden shrugged, and Justin winced when he saw the unhappiness in his son’s face when he spoke.
“Allena’s going away.”
“Daddy,” Cassie said once her brother’s words were out. “Doesn’t Allena like us anymore?”
Justin’s chest tightened, and he gently touched his daughter’s cheek. “Of course she does, honey.”
“It’ll be hard to replace that girl,” Igor said, raising a brow.
“Impossible,” Leah added.
“I thought we were playing cards,” Justin said, eager to shift the mood and change the subject. He’d spent the better part of two days thinking about Allena; it was time he got his mind on other things.
Cassie lasted another half an hour before her eyes began to droop, and Justin hauled her into his arms and made a quick stop at the bathroom to remove the face paint before he changed her into her pajamas and tucked her into bed. She was more restless than usual and took about ten minutes to settle down with a nightlight and a page from her favorite story book.
“Daddy,” she said as he kissed her forehead. “You’ll never leave us, will you?”
They were some of the most painful words he had ever heard, and his already tight chest constricted even further. His children had already lost so much. “No,” he assured her. “I’ll never leave you or Jayden.”
Her expression relaxed, and she closed her sleepy eyes. “I love you, Daddy.”
Justin could barely swallow the emotion burning his throat. “I love you too, honey. Goodnight, and sweet dreams.”
He left the door ajar, quickly heading down the hall, and discovered Jayden brushing his teeth in the bathroom.
“Everything okay?”
His son nodded and plopped his toothbrush in the cup. “I’m not a baby,” he announced. “I don’t need tucking in.”
“I know,” Justin assured him. “I thought you might want to talk about things.”
Jayden shook his head. “I was thinking I could save up my allowance,” he said matter-of-factly as they walked down the hallway and into his son’s room. “And give it to Allena. She might stay if she got more money for looking after us.” Justin stilled, his insides crunching and his heart aching for his child, who was trying to find logic amidst his confusion. He waited until Jayden was in bed before he responded. “It’s not about money.
It’s about grown-up things. And we’ll all be fine, I promise.”
He didn’t look as reassured as his sister, but he nodded. “Goodnight, Dad.”
Justin said goodnight and left the room, making his way back to the kitchen. He glanced toward the door that led to Allena’s rooms. Out of bounds. Damn, he really wanted to talk to her, to try and make her see what her leaving was doing to his children. But he wasn’t about to lay on a guilt trip.
He hesitated for a second and then returned to the kitchen. Coffee was brewing and the cards were packed away, and other than his kids, the three people he loved most in the world were all staring at him as he entered the room.
He raised his hands. “I don’t want a lecture, okay? I know my kids are hurting.”
“Isn’t there something you can do?” Leah implored.
Justin glanced at Mittie and saw the suggestion in his grandmother’s eyes. “Nothing that Allena would agree to,” he said quietly. “Or that I’m prepared to do.”
“What does that mean?” his sister shot back.
Justin ran a hand through his hair. “Nothing. How about we call it a night?”
They all agreed, and within minutes, Leah and their dad left, and Mittie headed to her room. Justin remained where he was, leaning against the countertop, dreading the headache that was pounding at his temples. He pulled off his glasses, closed his eyes, and pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose.
“Are you okay?”
He opened his eyes and spotted Allena by the doorway. She wore baggy pink sweats he’d probably seen countless times, but he couldn’t remember ever thinking how naturally beautiful she looked with her lovely hair down around her shoulders.
“Headache,” he replied.
She moved into the kitchen, opened the pantry, and withdrew the small, locked medicine box from the top shelf. Seconds later, she placed aspirin and a glass of water in front of him.
“Be a good boy and take the medicine,” she said, and he waited until he took the pills.
He did as she instructed. “You missed family night,” he remarked, finishing off the water.
“I had things to do.”
“Skyping with the fireman?”
Her eyes widened, and he figured she had every reason to look stunned by his question—because he had just startled himself. And he knew, without a doubt, that he sounded exactly as he felt—jealous through to the marrow in his bones.
“If you must know,” she replied, “I was talking to my dad and stepmom.”
He was stupidly relieved and furious with himself. “I like your parents.”
“They like you, too. Well,” she said, and she grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter.
“Goodnight.”
Justin watched her leave, inhaled the familiar scent of her fragrance that always seemed to linger in the air, and waited a few minutes before heading to his room. He checked on the kids, noticing that Cassie was still restless and tossing in her bed. He grabbed the baby monitor he kept on hand for nights when the kids were poor and walked into the master suite.
He kicked off his shoes and sat on the edge of the bed, setting up the monitor on the bedside table, in case he needed to get up in the middle of the night. The small, framed photo of Jayne caught his attention. Loving her sometimes seemed like it happened in another lifetime.
A familiar ache pressed between his ribs, and he looked at the wedding band on his left hand. He twirled the ring with his thumb and forefinger. It was looser than he remembered.
Memories seeped through him. And regrets. And grief. For so long, he’d felt it hovering like a shadow. Afraid to remember. Afraid to forget. Wondering if he’d ever feel whole again, Justin slipped the ring off, brought it to his lips for a moment, and then placed it in the drawer.
He wasn’t sure why, but he knew it was time.